


Well of Love

by InaliaFox



Series: Meant To Be (Dratchtember) [4]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Care, Dratchet Party, Dratchtember, Hugs, Love, M/M, Massage, Puppy Love, Relaxing, The Transformers: Lost Light, The Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (IDW), Well Of Love, dratchet - Freeform, more tags to come, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InaliaFox/pseuds/InaliaFox
Summary: Ratchet has been stressed and feeling pretty low since returning from Delphi. Someone catches on and won’t leave Ratchet alone.All Drift wants to do is help Ratchet feel better and he’s determined to figure out exactly how to do so.
Relationships: dratchet
Series: Meant To Be (Dratchtember) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932778
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Well of Love

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for the Dratchet Party day four prompt: Well of love/Puppy love!
> 
> Though I believe there is some puppy love on both sides, I feel this fanfiction fits more along with the well of love’s side of things.
> 
> I don’t think there’s anything that Drift wouldn’t do for Ratchet.

The events that surrounded Dephi were behind them now, or at least, they were supposed to be. Ratchet still couldn't let go of what had happened, more specifically, what had happened to him. 

Between Pharma having dissected him, separating his helm and spark from his body...The way the crazed mech _touched_ him still haunted his dreams. Not to mention the mech's death and every time Ratchet looked at his servos, he was served with nothing more than a reminder of what had happened. 

Leaning back in his chair, the medic sighed and closed his optics, bringing his digits up to rub at his tired face. The derma mesh lining of his face was soft and yet had a rugged edge to it, giving it a feeling of being tired and worn out, just like he felt. 

There was a knock at his door causing him to groan. He just wanted to be left alone for a moment before his next patient, was that too much to ask? “I believe First Aid is in the medbay. Go find him, he’ll help you.” Ratchet called, the exhaustion settling into his tone. Hopefully the other medic wasn't too busy. The medbay had been slow, so it was plausible that First Aid was free.

“I don’t believe he can help me. Open the door for me, please?” He’d know that voice anywhere.

That damned kid had been doing nothing but spoiling the medic since they got back and he didn't understand why. Energon goodies, setting him up for what the ‘Earthlings’ called a spa day to relax, getting him drinks at Swerves bar, so many things Ratchet had lost track of. 

He felt bad in a sense. Drift had wanted to tell him something back on Delphi but Ratchet refused to listen. He wasn't about to accept any kind of last words as he wasn't about to let the kid die then, nor any other time. He’d figured things would go back to normal once they went back to the Lost Light but slag if he wasn't wrong. Drift had been following him like a lost turbo fox, showering him with gifts and attention. Truthfully, Ratchet loved it and it warmed his spark but he just didn't understand _why_.

Groaning, Ratchet stood and opened the door only to come face to face with the mech and he was holding some odd canister of sorts? Before Ratchet could even ask what this might be about, Drifts free servo grabbed Ratchet by the wrist and started tugging the older medic out of the medbay with a spring to his step. 

“D-Drift! What are you doing?!” 

“First Aid agrees with me about you needing a break so we're giving you the day off. First Aid said he’s more than capable of taking care of things for a few cycles.” 

Ratchet struggled momentarily before he realized Drifts grip was more like iron than he had previously though. “I can't Drift. I have work to do.”

“Work that can wait. Both myself and Rodimus agreed that you need a break and seeing as we're both ranked higher than you, you have no choice.” 

Ratchet wanted to argue and protest but he knew it was useless. Whenever Drift wanted him to do something, the mech always pulled that _my rank is higher than yours,_ and though he is a co-captain, technically Ratchet's rank and authority trumped his. However he couldn't bring himself to argue, Drift was practically glowing as they walked and he didn't really mind some time off, did he? First Aid was more than capable of handling things so...Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

They quickly arrived at Ratchet's hab but before he could input the code, the door opened causing a grunt to escape Ratchet. Of course Drift had the code to his hab. Only certain mechs were allowed the codes to everyone's habs, captains and CMO’s being those mechs.

The next thing he knew, Drift was ushering him to the berth and though Ratchet did go, it wasn’t without a few exasperated grumbles. 

“Lie down, preferably face to the berth.” Ratchet only rolled his optics as he followed Drifts instructions. Did he have some kind of spiritual healing mumbo-jumbo planned again? It was sweet of Drift to try but well, Ratchet didn't believe in _any_ of that stuff like the younger swordsmech did.

His frame tensed slightly before melting against the berth, an all but lewd sounding moan pressed past his vodocer. Soft digits pressed beneath his transformation seams and against his protoform covered in warmed oil. His plating tingled with each movement of Drifts digits only causing him to sink further against the berth. When was the last time someone had massaged him? When was the last time he felt this relaxed? Slag for that matter, how was Drift so good with his digits?! Ratchet lost himself in the feeling, closing his optics as soft grunts and moans of pleasure escaped him. 

~~

Ratchets optics onlined groggily as he moved to sit up. He was shocked to find that there were no aches and pains, no pops of protest from his joints as they bent and moved. He couldn't remember the last time he woke up feeling this good and as his memories flooded back, the medic found himself looking around his hab, not too sure what to expect. 

Finally his optics settled on a figure standing to the side of the room by his table. “Drift, you’re still here?” 

The swordsmech hesitated before he turned around holding something in his servos. “I thought you didn’t believe in this stuff but you kept it?” 

A light blush spread across Ratchet's face as he looked away. Drift was holding a clear white Crystal, one the mech had given to Ratchet not long after they left Delphi. Ratchet didn't believe in the spiritual healing that Drift did but he couldn't just throw it out! Could he? He shook his helm before looking at Drift once more, clearing his vocoder as he crossed his arms and closed his optics. 

“Why would I throw a gift from you away?” Immediately his vocoder hitched.

“So, if it were from anyone else, you would have thrown it away?” Drift had inched closer and was now standing by the side of the berth, much closer than Ratchet would have liked. He was somewhat speechless as he felt his fans kick on, trying to cool himself down. 

“I know you don’t believe in it like I do but regardless, I’m glad you kept it.” When Ratchet looked at Drift, the mech's own expression was soft and graced with a smile Ratchet would call nothing but beautiful.

A realization struck the older medic then. All these gifts, all this attention, the massage, _everything as of late_ ..... 

“Come here kid.” Though he didn't give Drift the chance to do so himself before his servo grabbed Drifts arm and pulled the swordsmech down into his lap. His arms snaked around Drifts torso, pulling him close as he felt Drifts helm rest against the crook of his neck. Drift was still holding onto the crystal as he nuzzled against Ratchet, a low rumble of contentment coming from both of them. 

“I was worried that all I had accomplished up until now was nothing more than upsetting you.”

How could Ratchet be so blind to miss all of this? Drift did this because he could tell Ratchet was hurting. Drift did all of this because he loved and cared for Ratchet more than he ever thought a mech would. After all, who would love an old, crotchety medic like him? 

“No, Primus no Drift. Thank you, for everything. I...I feel much better thanks to you.” And it was true, he did feel better. He was simply a shame that it had taken him so long to realize what was going on.

Ratchet’s grip tightened, pulling Drift closer before he kissed the top of Drifts helm. He felt Drifts frame freeze before relaxing and melting against him once more.

“Of course. Anything for you, Ratchet.”

The same sentiment began to bleed into both of their fields as they slowly meshed together.

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> As with some of the pieces in this series so far, thank you to Vampyremelayah For helping me brainstorm this prompt. I didn’t have anyone proofread This piece today, so if you find any errors please let me know


End file.
